The Wing's Son
by athenaswings
Summary: Nightwing comes across an abandoned child on his nightly patrol. EDIT ON THE PROLOGUE!
1. prologue

Bludhaven, one of the dirtiest cities in America, filled to the brim with filth and despair. The streets were filled with the homeless and the destitute, each dark alley was the home of street gangs and murderers. From the rooftops of the city, from its skyscrapers and its buildings it looked like a swarm of parasites that had descended on its citizens.

Bludhaven was a place where no one trusted the police, not even the police themselves.

Bludhaven was a place where people looked behind their backs at every turn.

Bludhaven was a place where hope was nothing more than a fleeting dream.

This was the city Nightwing now called his home, the city he swore to protect. An oath, similar to the one which he had taken years ago in a dimly lit cave, was repeated on top of the city's highest point; to put duty before one's self, to save all those he can, to bring justice to those he can't, and to do everything he could to make hope into a reality in a city of despair.

And so it was that Dick Grayson settled down, cop by day and vigilante by night.

A cry pierced the air, a wailing child.

It could be nothing, just a baby woken from its slumber. But it could be something, and in a city such as this it was best to be certain.

Nightwing blended into the shadows, moving silently in the direction of the cries. It lead him into an almost empty alley. There he watched as a woman left the crying child on the street, his eyes narrowing in anger as he heard snippets of the conversation below.

"It's for the best" A man as fat as a walrus climbed out of the car, British judging by his accent.

The woman nodded, "And a good riddance too, let's hope the freak stays out of our lives. "

The man called the woman into the car and drove away, leaving the child's fate to chance.

Bludhaven's very own guardian descended from his perch and held the little boy in his arms, whispering calming words into his ear. Gradually the child fell silent, green eyes staring up to the white lenses of the mask.

Nightwing held the child in one arm and reached for his grapple using the other, intending to go to the nearest orphanage. He hoped that the boy would not be too frightened by his flight. He feared needlessly as the child laughed in delight, happy to be in the air and held his savior tight. Nightwing's mouth twitched into a smile and before long started laughing with the toddler in his arms.

The journey ended much too soon as the vigilante landed on the orphanage's roof.

He shouldn't have gotten attached, shouldn't have laughed and smiled with the child, because he would lose him as soon as he had found him.

Unless…

No, he would not go there. He didn't have time for a child, hell he barely had time for himself. He looked once more at the babe, who now looked curiously at him as if asking him why the fun had suddenly stopped.

He could not bring a child so quickly into his life, as dangerous and complicated as it was.

But Roy had Lian, and she was turning out just fine.

Wally had twins.

A few days later, helped along by Bruce Wayne's lawyers, Richard Grayson became a father. World meet Eric John Grayson-Wayne


	2. filler

Author's note: READ IF YOU DON'T WANT TO BE CONFUSED!

Listen, as much as I can actually quote HP, I'm new to Nightwing and I have trouble with timelines, characters, events and all that. So let's make this clear, I don't know any members of YJ except Tim and Kon, I know about the original Titans (and Lian) and the modern Titans but have no idea how or why the Modern Titans formed. The only members in JLA I am familiar with are the original seven plus GA (I think Black Canary and GA were kind of together but I don't know her that well). Therefore, members that I don't know about will not show up, (Zatana for example) events I can't seem to get will not show up, Dick never left Bludhaven and is still an officer, I don't get the whole Damian and red robin thing completely but for simplicity's sake Tim will be called Robin and disregard Damian(I know he's Batman's kid raised by Ra Al Ghul's and was Robin period, that's all I know) GA is still alive and is a millionaire, Tempest and Troia is still alive(because the resurrection thing gives me a headache) I know that Lian will definitely not be nicknamed Artemis as vigilante, but it was the best I could come up with. I apologize to DC fans about continuity mistakes that are bound to happen.

It was a cold and dreary night, and Eric was _bored_. He had been sitting on the same roof top, looking at the same scenery, and waiting for something that doesn't seem to be happening anytime soon. It did not help that his companion for the night was Mr. dark-mysterious-don't-mess-with-me-Batman. At least his dad was willing to pass time and entertain himself on boring patrols, sadly it was his no nonsense grandfather he was with tonight. Eric _knew_ that it was an uncharitable thought, Grandpa Bruce actually does know how to have fun, but he was a ten year-old boy. Ten year olds don't do sitting still, they don't do stillness period, even if they are Kevlar and mask wearing ten-year old boys. It's not his fault he was bored…fine maybe it is.

"Stop fidgeting."

Darn, busted, "Sure thing, grandpa Bat." Wish something would happen already.

A shriek came from a nearby alleyway, two heads snapped to its direction and in tandem; the two figures leapt and followed it. Ask and ye shall receive.

Dick was in the small hidden room in his house, admiring the different costumes displayed in the different glass cases (something he picked up from Bruce). He got the nightshift and had left Eric with Bruce, not that Eric needed the protection; it was more for the benefit of their cover. It wouldn't do for a grown man to leave his kid home alone, especially not in Bludhaven. He smiled when he saw his old Robin costume; he spent a good portion of his childhood wearing them, no matter how the design made him cringe now. What was he thinking, dressing up as an - an elf?

His eyes moved over to the one next to it, dark green base with black linings and (following family tradition it seemed) had a black eagle carved on the chest. Dick had to smile, it took a lot of persuasion to get Eric to agree to the modified design (the original had a myriad of colours and was flashy to the extreme), but he would be thanking him in the future. Dick after all, had experience in the crazy costume area. He was proud of Eric, he had his reservations at first but damn was he proud. The kid was getting better and better at what he-they did. He was a very good acrobat yes, but not as brilliant as his father at it; no, Eric's talents lay somewhere else. He was fond of using his light and speedy build to his advantage, ducking and weaving around his opponent like air. Eagle's preferred weapon was his sword, a sword that he always kept sheathed in order to prevent major damage.

No use dwelling in old memories now, he had a boy to pick up and Gotham was still a good two hours away.

Eagle, Eric Grayson, his son.

The media has long since gotten used to Eagle's presence, both in Gotham and in Bludhaven and occasional sightings in other cities. In fact they had long since gotten used to all the new sidekicks that would sprout out over the years, the superhero thing gets around. Still, that didn't stop them from flocking every single time they made a public appearance, especially if they were with _another _costumed hero. This unfortunately seemed to be the case today. Nightwing and Arsenal were working on the same case and Eagle and Artemis took advantage of it. Lian had always been Eric's older sister; however the tabloids always insisted that they were an item. They may be used to media scrutiny, but it was an annoyance to be mobbed by them nonetheless. All they did was go out for dinner together after a fight while their dad's finished up; both too tired to change clothes. This led to a media outbreak at the pizza place they ended up at.

"Is this a date?"

"Is it true that you guys are an item?"

"Does your guardians approve of what you do?"

"Do you think that-"

It was the same routine, both of them denied being together, got their meal and walked out of the place.

Artemis sighed "Next time, we're getting delivery"

"Ditto"

Back at the Harper residence, Dick and Roy shared a few good laughs at their children's predicament. The TV has a glorious thing.

While the media in the muggle world celebrated the adventures of Eagle, the media in the wizarding world mourned the loss of Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived. He had been missing for ten years, The Dursleys could only tell them that the boy had been abandoned somewhere in America, they didn't even remember where they left the poor boy. The Daily prophet had a field day with it, "BOY-WHO-LIVED ABANDONED; POSSIBLY DEAD" was one of their more prominent headlines. Vernon and Petunia Dursley were placed in muggle prison after the wizarding authorities helped generate proof of child neglect against them. Dudley was placed in the care of the Child Protection Services.

Albus Dumbledore sighed as he looked out the window. He had truly cared for the boy, and had only wanted the best for him. He had thought that the death of her sister as well as her helpless nephew would stay Petunia's hate for Lily, alas it was not so. His mistake had cost Harry greatly, and his only hope at this point was that Harry Potter, wherever he is, was still alive and well. It was a small hope, but a hope he still clung to never the less.

I thank Helena for reviewing, thank you for being supportive and telling me that my idea was interesting. I also thank the four or so people that put me on alert list. Thank you so very much! I ask that you continue reviewing and point out the good points and the bad points of my writing style.


	3. blood is not always thicker

I'm thankful to those who were willing to review and add me on their alert list, it tells me that what I'm writing is also worth reading. Thank you all so very much!

Eagle stared at the crumpled body in shock. Nightwing looked back and forth between his son and the fallen thug, his expression grim as he recalled the first time this happened.

_The father- son duo of Bludhaven was doing what they usually did at this time of weekend nights, patrol. They had just closed down a drug ring that had gained power in the last few months and were now chasing the remnants in deserted alleyways. Eagle had seen the gun pointed at him and ducked to avoid the bullet, but he wasn't able to dodge the man that was about to stab him with a knife. Or rather, he had no chance to. Somehow an invisible force knocked the thug away from him and into the wall._

"It happened again."

"Eric…"

"Dad, what's going on?" Eric sounded scared, hell, he probably _was_

"I don't know…yet. We'll figure this out, I promise." Nightwing said, wrapping his arms around his son.

Eric turned and clutched his father, the sheer enormity of the implications went over his head. He was a meta, a freakin meta. There may not be anything wrong with being a meta, God knows he's met and befriended many of them, but him a meta. What the hell?

Tonight was the final evidence, the one that sealed the case, the one that no matter how you look at it was irrefutable. Whenever Eric had been distressed or in danger strange things happened. The thought of a meta in the city crossed their minds but their search found none. And it always happened around Eric, nothing happened unless he was there. They investigated, it was not some curse or diabolical plot to get rid of them, it was not another meta, there was no other explanation. Eric was a meta. It was entirely possible, despite wishful thinking. Dick _had_ adopted the boy, and despite several x-ray scans that showed that Eric was no different from others, there was still the possibility that Eric's parents weren't exactly normal. The Kents didn't find out about Clark's powers until later either. Not that it mattered to him, Eric was his son, he would love him regardless. Besides after all the metas he's made friends with over the years...

But it mattered to Eric, who had been obsessed over finding his biological family. And Dick could understand why. You suddenly developed powers out of the blue, no accident, no nothing. The only other explanation was that you were born with those powers, either it was a trait passed down or you develop it on your own. Either way, it would make you dig up family records, trying to find out which, trying to find out if there was some one who could help you. The problem was: Eric didn't have those family records.

And so the batclan investigated; Batman, Nightwing, Red Robin, even Oracle helped out. Dick had told and retold the story of how he found Eric. Suddenly the words: freaks and nuisances that the woman had muttered that night made much more sense. But it didn't mean his anger at the abandonment was sated by any means. Did it matter whether or not your child was different? Obviously it did to her.

And so they tried to track them down. Nightwing remembering the British accent gave them a starting point. Then blood and DNA samples followed, but even then it was like searching for a needle in a haystack They all knew it was a one in a billion, but for Eric's sake they tried. And to their surprise a match came out: Petunia Dursley nee Evans, charged with child neglect and was sentenced a year ago, married to Vernon Dursley and had one son, Dudley Dursley. The neglected child was her nephew named Harry Potter, the child of Lily Potter and James Potter. Her picture matched Dick's memory to the tee.

* * *

The entire flight to Britain was tense and Eric was torn between anger, nervousness, anticipation, and anxiety. What if Petunia Dursley didn't know about what happened? What if it was just coincidence? What if? What if? Dick held the eleven year old boy in his arms, offering silent comfort and support. They arrived in less than three hours, thanks to the Wayne jet and Bruce's driving.

Eric steeled his nerves, schooled his face into something more stoic, and sat down on the chair. He watched as Mrs. Dursley was led handcuffed to the opposing booth. The moment she saw him her eyes widened and she screamed, "YOU! I THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD!" Immediately the guards came to restrain her and Dick, Bruce, and Tim huddled around him protectively.

It was only Bruce Wayne's name that convinced the guards to let them try again. And when Mrs. Dursley was brought back in, it was only his father's presence that stopped Eric from bolting.

"What are you doing here?" she hissed, "Didn't you get yourself blown up or do you kind just never die?!"

"Blown up? My kind? I don't understand."

"You and my sister and your shody son, _your_ kind." She said it with so much venom that Eric recoiled slightly, Dick looked ready to ready to lunge and strangle her.

"I- I don't- what son? What kind? What the hell are you talking about?!"

She peered at him, "who are you…wait, those eyes, Liliy's eyes…_his _eyes"

"Huh?"

"Harry Potter! You're that freak that we dumped somewhere in America!"

"Don't you dare call my son a freak!" Dick lunged and was stopped only by Bruce and Tim's strong grips.

"Dick" Bruce said sternly, "If you can't control yourself I'm going to force you out of here"

Dick nodded, albeit reluctantly and went back to his former position. Eric smiled at his dad's outburst. It was the hate his "Aunt" held for him that caused it but it was the love of his father that reassured him. In a way, his dad's protectiveness told him that no matter what happened he would always have a home somewhere.

"Who _is_ this Harry Potter?" Bruce asked

"My freak of a sister married the freak Potter boy and they made that freak of a child! And when the freaks got murdered by that dark freak the freaks' government gave us the freak, useless, worthless, boy to take care of! As if we would take in the bloody boy!" Petunia heaved, her handcuffed hands preventing her from pointing at Eric, but it was obvious who she was referring to.

"What do you mean by freaks?" Dick said coolly, trying to keep his emotions in check the way he was taught to do.

"Wizards and witches, them and their _magic_" she growled, "But my parents were so proud of her. Me? I saw her for the freak she was! Her, Potter, her _son_" she leered at Eric "That Hogs whatsis freak school, and everyone else! Freaks all of them!"

Eric leaped out of his chair, "Every one else?! School?!" This time it was Dick and Tim that stopped him, forcing him to keep still. Dick soothed him, stroking his hair, rocking him the way he used to when Eric was younger.

It was Tim who asked the next question. "There's an entire government of them?" he did it in his best Robin voice, so low that no one else could hear it.

Petunia nodded shakily

"And how can we reach them?"

"They use owls to send letters" she answered, her face pale. "but we entered through a place in London once."

"Give us the directions, _now_."

* * *

At nearly the same time, The Instruments in Albus Dumbledore's office began to whirl and sound. Harry Potter was back in Britain.


	4. Meeting the family

Albus Dumbledore looked dumbly at his instruments, hardly believing his eyes. All of them were showing readings: health, age, location, everything. It meant he was alive, it meant _Harry Potter _was alive. For the first time since the boy had gone missing, the headmaster allowed himself to hope. In the background, a phoenix sang.

London was _huge_. How were they supposed to find an entrance to a secret metahuman community in this place? It's been five days and still they haven't found anything. Not to mention it was raining _again_. But he had gotten this far, he managed to find his "aunt" on an entirely different continent after all. Aunt, the word left a vile taste in his mouth. All the words she uttered, all the insults. He couldn't shake them off his mind. At least, he told himself, she had the sense to abandon him instead of taking him in. It may not have made sense to another person, but it did to him. What would his life be like if he lived in a house where he was hated and reviled? How would he have turned out? At least this way, he found himself a family; no matter how dysfunctional they were.

The comm link in his ears buzzed and he heard his dad's voice. "Nothing here guys, no signs of metas anywhere. Not even one"

"Nothing here either" Eric replied.

"Sorry guys, can't see anything here" so Uncle Tim hasn't found anything either.

"Nothing here. I think it's time we head back" Grandpa didn't see anything then.

Eric sighed, it seemed so futile now, this search that they were on. Oh he had led them into this; that he knew. He felt guilty for a time, feeling like he had betrayed his father, his adoptive father that is, by looking for another family; yet all dad did when he confessed this was to brush the hair out of his eyes and told him he understood. Dick said that he himself had used to think of what life had been if he still lived in the circus with his parents. Eric may no longer feel guilty about trying to find his biological roots, knowing that his family understood and that he should learn how to control these mysterious powers, but he couldn't help but feel guilty by dragging everyone into this mess.

Hogwarts had a book of names, the enrollment list you could say. On it were the student's full names, addresses, as well as blood status. Pureblood, half-blood, muggle-born; while it does sound prejudiced, was actually essential to approaching a student. Muggle-born witches and wizards normally needed an adult to show them that yes, magic does exist and no, this is not a joke. Purebloods and half-bloods got a standard letter, assuming that at least one of their parents is magical. The only exception to this is rule is if the address was of a non-magical orphanage, either that or they were adopted from one. This normally meant that the child grew-up with muggle beliefs and would, like muggle-borns need some convincing. It was quite fortunate that this didn't happen often, the last being Tom Riddle some five decades ago.

Harry Potter did not belong to any of these categories, he was a half-blood who was entrusted to the care of his muggle aunt and uncle. Within a few years he was gone and was taken in by another muggle household, in America. But The USA was much too big for a search party, and since the muggles didn't even know which state they left their nephew in. (apparently they just kept driving and driving until they nearly ran out of gas, refilled and then kept going. Their goal was to get the child as far as possible from them, regardless of the state) All they knew was that they left him in an alley of some kind.

Ordinarily they would have treated him like a muggle-born, and have one of the professors to explain everything. But Harry Potter was The-Boy-Who-Lived. He and his family needed someone to explain that to them. Instead of the "magic does exist" conversation they would need a "magic exists and your son is an internationally known idol of the wizarding masses who brought down a powerful dark lord when he was one. Yes, one. Oh and be careful, his followers, the Death Eaters might still be around and would dearly want him dead" conversation. It was a much more delicate matter. It was for this reason that Albus Dumbledore himself would deliver the letter.

And so that was where Dumbledore found himself, outside a five star muggle hotel, looking for the penthouse suite. A jolt of nervousness went through him as he read out the address for the receptionist (The Royal Hotel, Penthouse suite number 3, the last bedroom on the right) not including the last bit however, he knew better than to include that one. He watched anxiously as the man paged the suite.

"Mr. Wayne? Al-bus Dumb-el-door is here to see you. Yes, Dumb-el-door."

"Tell him" Dumbledore told the receptionist, "that it has something to do with his son, the one that's turning eleven this year" He hoped that this Mr. Wayne was Harry's father and just to make sure, placed the age he would be this year. He couldn't be sure that they didn't change his name after all.

The receptionist hailed one of the bellboys and asked him to lead the aged wizard to the suite. The bellboy looked bemused at his clothes and Dumbledore started to doubt his choice in coming in a robe, too late now. He was greeted by a man whose long hair was tied back.

Dumbledore offered his hand, "Albus Dumbledore, it's a pleasure to meet you"

"Richard Grayson, but my friends call me Dick" The man took his hand in a firm grip before showing him in. Grayson? Shouldn't it be Wayne?

In the center of the room were three others, seated around a circular glass table. He only took notice of one. _He looks, exactly like his father, but with her eyes. Lily's eyes_

A cough startled him out of his thoughts

"I assume " Dick said, his face betraying nothing, "that you're here for my son?" He nodded to Harry, who was quite understandably tense.

" Quite so, Yes" the wizard replied, his eyes twinkling.

The eldest, a man who looked like he could be the father to Dick and the other, still silent male in the room, stood up. "But why ask for one of my sons? Timmy" He gestured to the person whose back was against the window, "isn't eleven" he chuckled a bit.

"My mistake" Dumbledore said cheerfully, "I didn't know who answered the phone." At least he hoped it was a phone.

"Bruce Wayne" The man introduced himself, "The one beside me is Timothy Drake" If he was his son then why did they have different surnames? " Or Timothy Drake-Wayne if you prefer" Dumbledore nodded, "and Eric Grayson"

Dumbledore handed Harry—no-Eric his Hogwarts letter "This is an enrollment letter from my school.

"Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry" Eric read aloud, his mouth forming a surprised O. He exchanged looks with Dick. This was it, witches and wizards. They've found them. _Or rather_ _they found us_ Eric thought, amused in spite of it all. _Speaking of which, how did they? _

"Gee, Witchcraft and Wizardry?" Bruce blinked, "As in magic wands and pointy hats?" Bruce the socialite made it sound like a joke, the Batman in him was subtly pressing for information.

"Don't forget the broomsticks" Tim muttered, loud enough for the rest of the room to hear. Dick snorted. Information gathering aside, Eric did find it kinda funny and had a hard time keeping his chuckles under control.

"As it happens, yes. Magic wands, hats, and flying brooms are real" That shut them up.

"Are you alright sir? I mean, magic? Really?" Didn't shut Bruce up apparently.

"Stereotypical isn't it?" Dick scowled,

"Very" Tim's mouth tilted upwards before becoming neutral again. Eric smiled, looks like its about time to put the shocked look out of the way, and make way for the "no way" look. _Dad got it right though_ he mused, _it was very stereotypical_

"Is this some kind of prank?" he asked, letting his amusement come out this time.

The old man, as Eric has come to privately call him, looked as cheerful as ever.

"I'm afraid not" The elderly, wizard smiled at them in this weird grandfatherly way.

Dick's eyes narrowed, "prove it" Dumbledore took out this stick, _wand_ they all deduced mentally, and waved it. Suddenly the circular table started floating, along with everything on it.

Dick, Eric and Tim let their surprise show, knowing full well that hiding it would make them seem more suspicious. Still, they knew quite well that there were metas out there who could do this (Raven for example) and more. Bruce, who was used to acting dumb, promptly fell out of his chair.

The table instantly floated back down "I'm deeply sorry for the shock I just caused you"

Bruce nodded dumbly, Dick looked like he'd seen a ghost, Tim froze in place, and Eric stared. _We're a bunch of good actors aren't we? _Eric inwardly smirked. Still, they _were_ surprised, they just wouldn't normally show it so…openly.

"So magic is real" Dick said slowly, "and Eric has this…magic"

"Excellently put Mr. Grayson" Dumbledore smiled.

Tim looked curious "So basically he's a meta human right?" They all watched Dumbledore, trying to asses his body language and wondering over his response. To their surprise the wizard's reply was: "meta human?" If Dumbledore knew how much information that one question gave them, surprise would be an understatement. These wizards and witches were mostly cut off from the world outside their society, if they didn't know about something as headline worthy as meta humans then they most probably didn't have the technology available. After all Superman, the JLA, the Teen Titans, Batman, Nightwing and other costumed vigilantes made the news regularlythen they probably didn't have a way to receive it. This of course led to the conclusion that theirs was an isolated society, one that was probably too concerned about things that happened internally to bother with the rest of the world.

The thing is, they did have contacts here, how else could they have found them? And how do they keep all of these a secret from the rest of the world, a world full of aliens and such. So these people had little outside world contact, and nonexistent knowledge of important events and figures. Most likely haven't seen modern technology, let alone have a high-tech base. (whether criminal or otherwise) They have the advantage there. However, they would make up for the lack of technology with their magic, making them entirely dependent on it.

Bruce laughed, "You know, Superman? Wonderwoman?"

Dumbledore shook his head. "I don't quite understand what you're saying"

"Nevermind" Tim sighed, "its nothing important"

"So this Hogwarts, it's a school for—wizards and witches?" Dick frowned. Population of their society was large enough to necessitate a learning institution then. Dumbledore nodded his eyes twinkling once more.

"My parents, the biological ones, did they go there?" Eric asked

"Yes, my boy, two of the brightest in their generation. We mourned their deaths and are very sorry for your loss"

Eric stared at him, mouth in a grim line. "How did they die?"

Dumbledore inwardly winced, "It is quite a long story you see…"

I thank you all for still keeping up with this, most especially Bumpkin. Know that you're the reason I actually decided to write this chapter.


	5. The Talk

"Let me get this straight", Tim's eyes narrowed, "This crazy psychopath goes on a rampage, defeats your _best_ fighters; and a _baby_ finishes him off"

Dumbledore shook his head, "No one knows what happened that night, no one knows how—"

"Bullshit" Dick said

"Excuse me?"

"I said bullshit. You don't know _exactly_ what happened, doesn't mean you can't guess." Blue eyes turned icy as they bore into the headmaster's skull.

"You must understand that everything is mere speculation and—"

"Then what are these 'speculations'? You have ideas and I demand to hear them" Dick's voice turned deep, his tone suddenly commanding. It was an unconscious gesture on his part, usually that tone was reserved for his night job.

The mere fact that this old man was sent to pick up Eric, who (if this Dumbledore was to be believed) is lauded as a hero, denotes that this man has connections with the bigwigs. If he's the headmaster of such an influential school then he must certainly share that same influence. Chances are; Albus Dumbledore was a powerful player in this. An unknown powerful player, and the so-called Batclan was not fond of unknown players. Especially the powerful variety.

If Dumbledore knew who he was dealing with, then his brain would be screaming at him to duck and cover. But there was an IF in that sentence, and seeing as he didn't know who these people were (Very few did) we can assume that ducking was not what he did. Yet, even then, his very instincts was telling him that he wasn't dealing with any ordinary family here. The Waynes were as far from ordinary as you can get.

The look on Harry's face alone sent shivers down his spine, a child should not look so serious. The only person who didn't seem so dead set against him was Bruce Wayne, yet even he was supporting his son. Dumbledore was no fool, Bruce Wayne may be the father; but it was Richard Grayson who was in control in this family. At least, that was what he thought. His eyes, though good for his age, would not be able to catch the waggling fingers behind the backs of his audience. And even if he did, he wouldn't be able to decipher it. This was all part of 'The Plan'. Let him believe that Dick was the head, it coincided with the reports that Bruce was an airhead while Dick was the honor student. Let him believe that he was the one pulling the strings. Bruce was the head of Wayne inc, Dick was a cop, Tim was handling the Drakes' enterprise. But with the obvious bond between the three, it was possible that Bruce was relying on the guidance of his genius son.

"I believe that it was his mother's love that ultimately saved him. His mother's sacrifice acted as a shield against the killing curse" He was met by disbelieving silence.

Love? How surreal was that? No magical outbursts, no flaring auras, just love? But what about the other parents during that massacre? Didn't they protect their children too? Surely other parents jumped in front of their kids, begging the killer to spare them. What made Eric's mother so different from the others?

When Dick (once again to keep up pretenses) asked this exact same question, Dumbledore grew silent before replying with all seriousness.

"Because unlike the others she was given a choice."

"Why would a mad mass murderer give his victim a choice?" Dick asked

"That I cannot answer"

Once more Dumbledore was discretely examined by four pairs of eyes, assessing his words. Finally, they each agreed that the man was being truthful. But they have long since learned how good humans can be at lying. After all, weren't they themselves living examples of it?

"Can we think about this some more?" Dick asked the headmaster, his voice professional. "We can't make hasty decisions after all"

"Of course you can my boy! I'll come back in a week" Dumbledore said joyfully. "I do hope you consider going, you're parents would have wanted you there Harry." He directed the last part to Eric, hoping that it would convince him to come. Harry Potter is a wizard and he must be educated in a wizarding institution. How else would he learn to control his magic?

"Wait!" Eric said, "I need to ask you something"

Dumbledore smiled encouragingly

"Why did you leave me with my aunt and—them? They obviously didn't want me around. Couldn't you have given me to a better family?"

Dumbledore's smile dropped, and he sighed. "It was a mistake Harry, one I'm hoping you would forgive. I had thought that Petunia would love you, or at least care for you"

"Obviously not" Dick said, "I found him abandoned in a street, an alley where anything could have happened to him; most of which aren't good"

This was not going the way Dumbledore would like, it was hitting wounds deep within him. Reminding him of what he had done wrong.

Dumbledore gave a sad smile, "Your mother's sacrifice was tied to her blood and her sister was her only living relative. The blood wards would have stopped any Dark Wizard attempting to take revenge. I didn't think of the possibility that the danger would come from inside the wards." He said before walking out the door

"Blood wards eh? Must be complicated" Tim mused once the Wizard had left.

"More importantly did you hear what he said? _He _was hoping, _he _had thought. We were right, this guy has power there. Enough power that he could decide the fate of their 'savior'." Dick pointed out, a frown marring his features.

Eric sighed "I still can't believe that he did that, leave me there. Can't blame him I guess, still."

Dick squeezed Eric's shoulder, "Look on the bright side, they're in jail. Gone, vamoosh, they're not the joker, they can't just bust out. You never have to see their face again.

"And if they did escape, they won't be able to go after you. We'd go after them first" Bruce's sentence was greeted with enthusiasm from the family. ( a "hell yeah!" from Dick, a "We'll kick they're ass" from Tim, and a "These guys are sooo doomed" from Eric)

The advantages of having a night job.

"Let's be serious now" Bruce said, "will Eric go or not? Pros and Cons?"

"Pro: he'll learn to control his powers. We can't help him with that" Dick said

Eric smiled, "Con: I'd be away from you guys."

"Con: he wont be able to continue his normal education. Without credentials he cant do anything in the 'normal world'" Tim said. This was greeted with nods and concerned faces from everyone.

"We can always forge one, enter a fake school" Bruce suggested

Tim shook his head, "a school no one has heard of? Why would the grandson of Bruce Wayne study abroad for that when he attends a well known private highschool?"

"Tutoring sessions?" Dick supplied "He can just take the government test every summer, it'll show that he's still up to date"

"Does this mean I don't get to have a break?" Eric whined.

"Sorry about that kiddo" Dick laughed "Con: he wont be able to help the other Titans" A collective wince, they all knew that if there's one thing that's impossible to ask them its quitting the night life.

"Looks like the cons are going against that one pro" Eric said.

"I don't think we can make a decision like this. Let's adjourn and think about this with a clear head another time" Bruce suggested.

**IMPORTANT NOTICE: **As early as now I want votes as to what house Eric will be in. Honest to goodness he can fit all the houses. Votes have to be in before the train ride scene, which will most likely be two or three chapters from this one.


	6. Breaking the News

Eric Grayson played idly with his pen, tuning out the teacher and letting his thoughts wander.

_Leaving the Titans_

If there was one thing that made the decision for him it was that. Leaving the Titans, leaving _Eagle _behind. They all knew that it would be impossible for him to continue with his vigilantism in another country , especially not with an entire society of metas keeping an eye on him.

There were other magic users, people whom they trusted, who could teach him. But even they admit that magic was volatile, and that each different brand of it worked in different ways. Even if he sought the help of other magic heros, they might not be able to truly harness his power, they might not even manage to teach him how to fully grasp it.

They had contacted Raven first of course, She was a lot closer to his father than the other magic users and she had shaken her head and simply said "His brand of magic is different from mine, I can teach him to control his emotions, to stop unexpected bursts of power, but how to use it is a different matter.

It was why they started him on Raven's brand of meditation.

Eric thought it would be easy, never showing your emotions was a batclan policy when on the streets, but keeping a poker face was completely different from not feeling at all. Each time he felt himself getting angry he had to retreat to the back of his mind, somehow he had to remove himself from his anger before coming back to himself.

He wasn't good at it of course, he actually needed to think of phrases that would eventually calm him down.

Didn't help that Raven refused to translate _Azarath Metrion Zinthos_ for him.

So now he was stuck trying to figure out exactly HOW to calm himself down. He was pretty sure that screaming _Nachos, PS3, soda_ wouldn't work.

"Mr. Grayson, care to tell us what the answer is?"

_Crap._

"Umm…" Thank God he had already taken up Advanced Math ages ago, his Math class was easy in comparison "Two hundred and fifty-six sir"

The conference room was in chaos, with many of the world's teen heroes muttering amongst themselves.

"But you can't leave!"

"Itsnotfaircan''tleavebecausebecau-

"Come on Eagle, you can't just up and move away!"

Oh for the love of- "SHUT UP ALL OF YOU!"

Silence

"Now, I don't like this just as much as you do, but I don't like thinking that this magic of mine isn't in my complete control. Everyone else is still figuring out if Zatanna or somebody else could teach me, but no one has ever heard of a society of metas like this and we can't be completely sure. But that doesn't mean I'm moving away alright?" Eric looked around the room and breathed a sigh of relief, now hopefully they could go back to work.

"So you aren't leaving?"

"I don't know KidFlash"


End file.
